


Sleepless Nights

by SleepytimeOtter



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Language, M/M, Slight Canon Divergence, because what do you Expect with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepytimeOtter/pseuds/SleepytimeOtter
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are having a hard time sleeping during their time staying in the Derry Town House. So what better way to spend the night than get drunk and reminisce together?





	Sleepless Nights

The Derry Town House was, by far, one of the worst places that Eddie Kaspbrak had ever stayed in. Between the constant threat of a demonic clown showing up at any moment and the garish, 70’s wallpaper that seemed to be sprinkled throughout the rooms, the entire place simply had a vibe that made Eddie uneasy. 

And to top it all off, it smelled like the entire place was just... made of mold. The stench of mildew had him reaching for his inhaler every time he took too deep of a breath, hearing his mother’s voice tutting in the back of his mind.

This place was just filled with bad fucking memories. 

“Can’t sleep?” Richie’s voice startles him a little bit. Eddie shoots him a glance over a tense shoulder, and he can see his old friend standing awkwardly in the doorway - waiting. His hands are tucked deep within his coat, his brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. 

“Can you?” Eddie replies, arching his eyebrows. Richie takes his expression as an invitation to slide into the barstool next to his. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Touché. The beds in this place blow ass,” Richie says. “Oh, and y’know, the whole clown shit doesn’t help either.” 

“Mm,” is all that Eddie can say before he downs another heavy gulp of the shitty bourbon that he had snatched from the Inn’s bar. His throat burns - a feeling that seems to anchor him to the moment. He’s drank more in these last couple of days than he had in years, though he doubted any of the Losers Club could blame him. He clangs the mouth of the heavy bottle against his glass noisily as he pours another for himself. 

“The clown shit,” Eddie echoes. “I wish I could forget about _that._”

“Can I?” Richie doesn’t wait for a response before he stands up, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s as he reaches for the half-empty bottle to Eddie’s left. Eddie grimaces as Richie takes a swig straight from the bottle, and lets out a satisfied sigh as he pulls the opening away from his lips.

“I swear to fuck, Rich, you haven’t changed at all.” 

“Aw, thanks, Eds.” He smirks at him from the side of his glasses, and Eddie’s heart squeezes in an odd way when he winks at him. 

He snatches the bottle away from him, grimacing at the idea of his spit smeared against the opening of the bottle. Even though his germaphobia is much better now than it was as a kid, he much rathered his bourbon without backwash. That wasn’t to say he didn’t pour himself another glass instantly, though.

The germs were always a bit more tolerable if they were Richie’s. 

Silence falls between them for a moment as he nurses his glass. Quiet moments between them weren’t uncomfortable, though. Even as kids, Eddie was content with being still and quiet around Richie, even if that was a rare blessing to be had. Just being near him was enough for Eddie. Even if they didn’t talk much. Or maybe he was just being a sap. 

The silence, however, doesn’t last very long.

“Oh my _god,_” Richie’s laughter echoes around the open room, breaking the silence. His laughter is just as infectious as it had been when they were kids, and Eddie can’t help but chuckle along with him as he struggles to choke his words out. His voice is strained behind his giggles. “Do you remember that one sleepover over at Bill’s? When we tried to sneak down and raid his mom’s wine cabinet?” 

The memory floods his mind instantly, and Eddie coughs out a laugh against his glass of bourbon. 

“And-and I handed you the bottle to take a swig, but you were so nervous that you fucking _dropped it!_” Richie is leaning against the bar now, rubbing tears away from his eyes beneath his glasses. 

“It was my first time with booze, you asshole,” Eddie says between laughs. “And you convinced me to go with you in the middle of the night! Stan and Bill were totally trying to sleep.”

“I can’t believe I forgot about that. The look on your face was absolutely priceless!” Richie’s wheezing now. “I thought you were gonna shit your shorts.” 

“Bill was so pissed he didn’t even stutter. I think I nearly died right then and there,” Eddie puts his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking beneath each shuddering breath. “And my mom was pissed that I stained my shirt. It went fucking everywhere.”

His hands clench and unclench, though his smile is still there. “I wonder if he remembers this shit,” Eddie finishes, a little too fast, before taking in a shuddering breath. He erupts into more laughter.

“I’m not gonna be the one to bring it up to him, dude.”

The two of them laugh together for a little while, allowing themselves to get lost in the waves of nostalgia. With each additional little detail or story, the memories came flooding back like water pouring through a shattered dam. 

Not even two days ago, Eddie hadn’t remembered any of these moments. Not a single one. All of these special moments and memories that shaped him into the man he was. They were gone like sand slipping through his fingers.

The strongest of his memories of Derry now were definitely the ones of Richie. Memories of hanging out together at the arcade. Of whispered conversations beneath blankets at 3 am, illuminated by flashlights. And their stupid fake arguments that seemed to dominate most of their conversations. Little memories and moments that he never knew would mean this much to him. As the silence spreads between them again, Eddie feels something more bittersweet tug at his heartstrings. 

“You know, it’s weird,” he starts. The bourbon is starting to make him a little more relaxed by now. Richie looks at him with a slightly amused expression, resting his chin on his hand. He tries to focus on the swirling brown liquid in his glass instead of the way his stomach turns into weird knots under Richie’s gaze. “I’d seen your show on Netflix, and even back then something about it bothered me so fucking bad. It was like I knew you, but I didn’t, y’know?”

Richie stares at him for a moment, his face unreadable. The way his eyes searched him made Eddie squirm a little. 

The liquid courage still wasn’t enough for Eddie to mention how his heart fluttered and his stomach churned when he watched the specials, though. Or how much time he had spent staring at the screen, hoping to figure out just why he felt so strongly about the gangly, foul-mouthed comedian that he watched so intensely. 

But now, he remembered why. It was Richie fucking Tozier. It always had been. 

“I mean, you actually seemed _funny_ when I didn’t know who you were,” Eddie smirks at him. He tried to hide the subtle way his cheeks flushed beneath Richie’s gaze, and it seemed to work well enough. 

“Fuck you, dude; I’ve always been hilarious,” Richie says, but there’s no bite in his voice. He laughs, taking another swig. 

“But yeah, I know what you mean,” Richie finally agrees. His voice is a little quieter than usual as he leans back, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. “It was like… like I was in a trance all these years.”

Eddie flicks his eyes over to him, and he can tell that Richie is troubled by that fact much more than he would ever let on. He feels a pang of _something_, deep down, as he gazes at the wistful look on Richie’s face. It feels like such a rare sight, but not at the same time. The entire tone of their conversation seems to shift in an instant, and Eddie fidgets against his glass. 

“At least the dickwad can’t take the memories away from us now,” Eddie says, trying his best to be reassuring. “And we have all the time in the world to make new ones.” 

Richie tears his eyes away from the ceiling and flashes him an appreciative smile. 

There is a beat of silence as Richie fumbles his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. He downs his glass with a single gulp and slams it noisily on the bar in front of them. 

“Well, Eduardo, I’m gonna go fuck your mom now,” Richie says, nonchalantly. The alcohol makes that joke funnier than it should be, and Eddie actually snorts. Richie stands up beside him, tucking his hands back into his pockets like a nervous habit.

Suddenly the space between the two of them was much smaller than it had been before. 

Richie is close. Much too close. Eddie can feel his pulse pounding in his throat as his heart rate picks up - like he’s some sort of _teenager_. His breath catches in his throat when Richie looks down at him, eyes big behind his glasses. Richie smells like cologne and bourbon; it’s a mixture of smells that Eddie would have never guessed he’d enjoy together. But he finds himself wanting to move closer to him - to breathe in the smell of him that he’d forgotten that he loved so much. Wanting to take the chance he’d been much too afraid to do as a child. 

He really must have drank too much. 

Eddie clears his throat awkwardly as he, too, stands up. The alcohol seems to hit him at once. He sways slightly when he straightens up completely. Richie grips at his arm gently, until it’s clear that he isn’t gonna fall directly on his ass. 

Now their faces really are too close. He feels his heart pounding against his ribs, and for a brief moment, he swears he sees a flush of color against Richie’s cheeks. 

“You’d better go to sleep too, lightweight,” Richie smirks down at him, but there’s a shimmer of something else behind those tired eyes of his. “C’mon. I’ll guide you up to your room so you don’t get lost.”

“This place is tiny, Rich. There’s no fucking way I’d get lost,” he huffs. Richie shoots him a look. 

Of course, he allows him to lead him up the stairs anyway. Richie carefully watches Eddie as they ascend each step, with a genuine concern on his face that made Eddie equal parts flattered and incredibly annoyed. When they finally reach his room, though, he hesitates. 

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

“Hey, Rich?”

“Mm?”

“Thanks for… everything. I missed this - even if I didn’t remember it before yesterday.” 

The sincerity in his voice must have caught Richie off guard because for a brief moment he says nothing and pauses mid-step. He looks over his shoulder as he continues his trek towards his room, a smile on his stubbled face.

“Me too, Eds.”

He doesn’t spare him another glance before he disappears down the hall. Eddie watches him go, feeling a mixture of a million different emotions stirring deep in his gut. 

Maybe coming back to Derry wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> After writing the last one I kinda got hooked on the idea of writing more. I really wanted to see more of these two just hanging out and being able to have fun together... so... I did it. (Also added in some pining because I Gotta) I hope y'all like it as much as I liked writing it! 
> 
> A huge thanks to my friend Altocaramel for proofreading this, and also [this](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/615376104668266506/637443626401660948/unknown.png) amazing fanart of the little story scene. 10/10 it was exactly what I had in mind.


End file.
